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Everything felt different then, and it hadn’t been the same since Keres showed up.
Tension was at an all-time high, even without Rowan or his men. That strain existed despite their banishment, which made it very clear who the true instigators had been.
I hadn’t talked to anyone since Rowan left. Some of the girls came by each day, knocking at my door and trying to get me to open up. Kai even came the day prior, but it didn’t matter who they sent.
That anger and hurt were fresh, and I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t even want to acknowledge them.
Nobody else tried to defend Rowan despite his innocence, and by doing so, they made it clear who they supported.
I had even forgiven Finn for messing with Rowan before, and I felt like an idiot for believing him. He was waiting for the first chance to strike. While I wasn’t sure I knew entirely why he hated him, it didn’t matter anyway.
Finn got his way, and because of it, my blood boiled each time I thought about him.
When I got too restless and knew I needed something to distract me, I decided to head to my shop. I kept my gaze squarely on my path ahead and did not acknowledge anyone I walked by.
At the very least, the umbrella I carried through the drizzling rain felt like a shield, and that was enough to get me through.
The store was unlocked long enough to let me in, then shuttered up all over again.
I busied myself by rearranging again and thinking about new displays I wanted to put into place. Even if I was there, I didn’t have it in me to take on any customers.
The cabin fever had already begun to set in, and I didn’t know where else to go. It seemed like the best place to be since everything I loved about my craft was under the same roof.
Life had been harder to bear without Rowan, even if I never imagined I’d feel that way before. He had become a crucial part of my day-to-day life, and not having him there made me feel like I was losing my mind.
I thought I had been safe against that old pain I once felt from my broken bond, but that cold reality had me by the throat once again. Where a warm, safe connection had flourished, it had been taken away just as fast.
What hope I had was diminishing faster and faster with each passing day, and I had no solution for myself. I could only undergo that grief again and hope it didn’t leave me more damaged than the first time.
A knock at the door tore me from my seemingly endless thoughts, and while I was prepared to ignore it completely, I paused once I saw Sara standing there in the pouring rain. I wanted to retreat and avoid her entirely until I noticed the troubled look on her face.
Even through the door, I could feel her grief. She seemed moments away from breaking down completely.
Unable to ignore her, I crossed the room and unlocked the door, allowing her to come in.
Sara met my eyes, where her brief surprise came and went, and her chin wobbled. Upon closer inspection, I could tell she had already been crying with her muddled cheeks and bloodshot eyes. She sniffled as the rain came down around her and nearly soaked her jacket all the way through.
A cool breeze came in through the open door, and I pulled my wool cardigan closer to me. “Sara, what’s wrong?”
She let go of a shaky breath and wiped at her eyes. “Ryan…he broke up with me.”
My heart dropped for her, aware of how into him she had been. She looked as devastated as I had expected, and I frowned. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Are you okay?”
“I don’t feel like it right now, but I’m sure I will be,” she managed, lifting a bottle of wine she carried over. “But this might help if you’re willing to join me. It’s non-alcoholic.”
Touched that she had considered my situation, I gave her a small smile and stepped out of the way. “Come in, you’re soaked.”
Sara’s gratitude glimmered through the cracks in her grief, and she did exactly that. I closed the door behind her as she took a seat at the reading table.
“I’m sorry to just drop in. I know you’ve been going through a hard time,” Sara said regretfully as she uncorked the wine.
“It’s okay, really,” I returned gently as I scurried, looking for something to pour the wine into. “I could use the company anyway, and I don’t want you going through this on your own.”
Finding two ceremonial chalices, I decided that was good enough and brought them to the round table. It wouldn’t take a very strong cleaning charm to get them pristine again, anyway.
Sara snickered at the chalices and began pouring the wine for us. “Only the finest china I see.”
We both chuckled at that despite our mutual pain, and we clinked them together.
